


Whelmed

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Biting, Cunnilingus, F/F, Female Alpha with a Knotting Cock, Female Omega, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Scent Kink, Slightly dubious consent, slight somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24174595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: "I'm not overwhelmed, I'm whelmed. Well and truly whelmed. Please," she said, and her voice had a desperate, needy tinge to it.The Doctor doesn't think she's going into heat. Yaz isn't quite so sure.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 97
Collections: Heat Fic Summer 2020





	Whelmed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BabaTunji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabaTunji/gifts).



Yasmin Khan rolled onto her stomach, her eyes still shut. She'd been having the most wonderful dream, although she didn't remember any details now. She'd been in some great big field, and it had been rippling with... sunflowers? Wheat? Corn? She'd been wandering, and somehow she'd been tall enough to see over all of it, and the tops of the plants (was there a name for that part of a plant, anyway?) had been brushing across her thighs. She'd been wearing a pair of trousers, but somehow it was as if it was against her bare skin. It had stroked against her cock, her arse, along the top of her belly, like being caressed by a million hands, or tongues, or... something. It was a sensation that would probably give her the creeps in real life, but in the dream... well, it had been nice. Better than nice. The kind of intensity that only came up in dreams. 

She had an erection, which wasn't necessarily unusual - it wasn't as bad as it had been when she was a teenager and woke up hard and aching every morning, but maybe two morning out of seven she had some type of morning wood. It wasn't usually this intense, though. She looked down the line of her own body, to the tent in her pajama shorts, and she made a face. "You're not any help," she told her erection. 

It didn't say anything, thankfully. 

With a sigh, Yaz slid a hand down her pajama pants, and stroked her cock from root to tip. The head of her cock was already slick with pre-come, and she shuddered as she squeezed her shaft. She threw her head back, panting up at the ceiling, and let images flash across her mind, fucking into her fist. 

She ended up settling on the Doctor. The Doctor riding her, breasts bouncing. The Doctor on the ground in front of her, lips stretched thin around her cock. The Doctor on all fours, cunt pink and wet as Yaz pushed into it. The Doctor's nipple in her mouth, cunt grinding against her leg. The Doctor in her lap, shirt pulled up and head thrown back. Lately, all of her masturbation fantasies had featured the Doctor. She couldn't help it - the Doctor was just so _beautiful_ , so clever, so funny, so sexy... Yaz didn’t even know if the Doctor was an Alpha or an Omega or a Beta, or some other designation that went with being an alien, but she couldn’t stop imagining fucking her. 

Yaz came across her own stomach, one hand covering her mouth, her other hand milking her cock. She pressed her fingertips against the base of her cock, right where her knot would emerge if she went a few more rounds, and she shivered. She'd only popped her knot a few times - it only really happened when she was in rut. Which had only happened the once, and that had been spurred on by the boy next door going into heat.

She'd been locked in her room for three days, he'd been locked in _his_ room, and the two of them had avoided eye contact for weeks after that. 

Yaz looked down at her wet stomach, and she sighed. She'd have a shower, get dressed, and hopefully she wouldn't smell too... Alpha-y. The Doctor didn't seem to notice those sorts of things, but Yaz didn't want to push her luck. Besides, it'd be good to clear her head. Wouldn't be good to keep shooting the Doctor puppy dog eyes.

* * *

Yaz walked into the kitchen, and she sneezed explosively, three times. It smelled... strong, to put it mildly, and she couldn't put her finger on what it was that it smelled like. She sniffed, and resisted the urge to cover her nose with her hand. The Doctor was sitting at the kitchen table, her expression morose. She smelled... strongly, to put it lightly. 

"Doctor," Yaz said thickly. 

"Yaz," the Doctor said, and she looked up at Yaz and smiled at her, all teeth and bright eyes. "I'm glad to see you!"

"I was only in my room," Yaz said weakly. The Doctor smelled… intense. It seemed to be sinking into her whole head, and it was sending goosebumps up and down her back. If she hadn't had that wank before she'd gotten up, she'd be in a lot more trouble. 

Sort of. How would the Doctor even react to that?

"I still missed you," the Doctor said, and she was... getting up. She was getting up, and she was wrapping her arms around Yaz, her face nuzzling into Yaz's neck. "You smell nice. Did you use a new soap?"

Yaz pressed her nose into the side of the Doctor's head, and she took a deep breath. There was the scent of the Doctor, beeswax and engine oil and custard creams and hot metal and warm skin. There was another underlying scent as well, and she wanted to press her face into the Doctor’s neck to see how much of it she could pick up.

She restrained herself, but barely.

"Just the soap that the TARDIS gives me," Yaz said. The Doctor didn't seem to have any compunctions about nuzzling _her_ face into Yaz's neck, and Yaz shivered. The Doctor's nose was cold, and her hands were resting on Yaz's shoulders. 

"She's got good taste," the Doctor said, and her tone was dreamy. 

_Oh no_ , Yaz thought, as her cock stirred in her trousers. _Oh no, this is not the time to get an erection._ Yaz carefully angled her hips away, and tried not to think about how warm the Doctor was pressed against her, about the softness of the Doctor's breasts against her own and the way she'd imagined the Doctor bouncing on her cock less than an hour before.

None of that was helping.

"You smell _so_ nice," the Doctor repeated, and now she was looping her arms around Yaz's waist, and her breath was humid against Yaz's neck. Yaz was beginning to get sweaty, and she was pretty sure the Doctor was kissing her. Lightly, but still kissing, and that was enough to make Yaz's head spin.

"You alright there, Doctor?" Yaz wriggled free, and the Doctor blinked at her, then shook her head, rubbing her eyes. 

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I'm okay." She shook her head hard, clearly trying to get her head back into some kind of order, and then she smiled widely at Yaz. Her cheeks were very red, and she was sweating enough that hair was sticking to her cheeks and her forehead. 

Yaz shoved her hands into her pockets, and she rocked on her heels. "So," she said, clearing her throat, "what would you like to do today?"

"I'm open for most anything," the Doctor said. She was pacing - she seemed more full of frenetic energy than usual, which was a tad unsettling. The Doctor always gave off the impression of a spinning top about to skitter off of a table, and now... well. 

"Are you _sure_ you're okay?" Yaz asked. She went to the fridge, opening it up and rummaging around inside of it. She was still hard, she was beginning to get edgy, and she wanted... what did she want? She wasn't sure what it was that she wanted, but some kind of energy was surging through her. 

"I'm fine," the Doctor said. She almost sounded like she believed herself, too. 

"Are you hungry?" Yaz stared into the kitchen. 

The Doctor paused - Yaz could hear her boots go quiet. "Yeah, actually," the Doctor said. "I wasn't in the mood to eat when I came in, but now..." The Doctor trailed off.

"What are you in the mood for?" Yaz stared into the fridge, her expression thoughtful. She wanted to feed the Doctor, she wanted to wrap herself around the Doctor in some quiet, out of the way place, she wanted to sink her cock as deep inside of the Doctor as she could and... wait a minute.

Yaz took a deep breath through her nose, absorbing the scent that was filling the small kitchen. It was familiar, but not in a way that she could put her finger on. It seemed to be clouding her whole head, in ways that she wasn't sure she liked. She had an erection again, and how could _that_ be happening, when she'd only just had an orgasm? 

"I'm not sure," the Doctor said, and there was the sound of more pacing. "We should go someplace special, I think," she told Yaz, and now she was standing next to Yaz again, just a little bit too close. Yaz was noticing it more than usual, because the Doctor was usually hands off. 

Hm.

Yaz rubbed her eyes, and she stared into the guts of the fridge. The Doctor's restlessness was beginning to have an impact on her. She wanted to... cook. Yes, cook. 

"I'll make you something," she told the Doctor earnestly, and she was tapping her foot on the lino, mentally going through the recipes she knew by heart. "D'you like pancakes? We've got blueberries and chocolate chips, I could make you pancakes!"

"I like pancakes," the Doctor said, and Yaz glanced over, to see that she had _visibly_ perked up.

How the fuck was one person so damn _cute_? It wasn't fair. Yaz just wanted to rub her face all over the Doctor's, wanted to kiss her, wanted to wrap around the Doctor in some out of the way place and hide from everything, wanted to... 

Okay, those weren't normal feelings. Yaz liked to think she was a fairly non-traditional Alpha (she'd never actually met a "traditional" Alpha, whatever that meant these days), but something about the way the Doctor was acting seemed to be pinging whatever Alpha instincts she had lying dormant. 

Yaz shook her head, trying to clear it, and she leaned into the fridge, getting out a carton of eggs and a carton of milk. "So," she said, trying to sound as normal as possible, "pancakes?"

* * *

Yaz wasn't the best at making pancakes, she would admit to that. Her father had always been the one who did all the cooking in the family, although he'd managed to teach her a few things. She'd never been that good.

Not that the Doctor seemed to mind. She was putting pancakes away like she was in a competition, and she kept looking expectantly up at Yaz when she'd finished her plate. 

Yaz wasn't sure why _that_ of all things seemed to be getting her going - she'd never been turned on by another person eating before, apart from a rather memorable time when Meg Rosenthal had eaten a peach at a school picnic. But this was nothing like that, just the Doctor plowing through plate after plate of pancakes like it was her job.

"Do I have something on my face?" the Doctor asked at one point, and Yaz blushed, looking down.

"No, you're... you're good," Yaz said, and she cleared her throat. "Still hungry?"

"I think I'm good," the Doctor said, and she leaned back into her chair, patting her full stomach. "Wow." She burped, looking embarrassed. "Excuse me." She leaned back rubbed her face, although now there was a dab of syrup on her cheek. "I don't think I've been that hungry in an age."

"You've got some..." Yaz said, then trailed off. Unthinkingly, she leaned forward and swiped the syrup away with her thumb.

The Doctor's skin was warmer than usual, and she nuzzled into Yaz's palm, her eyes sliding shut like a contented cat. "I dunno what I'd do without you, Yaz," the Doctor said, and she gave a relaxed sigh. 

_You should kiss her,_ whispered some hungry, desperate part of Yaz's mind. _She'll taste like pancakes and like whatever that wonderful scent is, kiss her and mark her up with your scent, she wants it, you know she wants it._

Yaz's fingers pressed into the soft spot on the side of the Doctor's jaw, where the scent glands were on a human. She rubbed them as she stroked the Doctor's cheek with her thumb. She was breathing heavily, her whole body on edge, her mouth going dry. 

The Doctor gave a little moan, and Yaz yanked her hand back as if she'd been burned. 

"You feeling alright, Doctor?" Yaz managed to get out, licking her lips. She wanted to bite the Doctor. She wanted to sink her teeth into the meaty part of the Doctor's shoulder, taste the soft skin, let herself get drunk on the Doctor's alien pheromones. She'd made a big point of not getting too attached to the Doctor's scent, but now she had it on her fingers, and it was taking a good deal of personal restraint not to just snuff it up. 

"Yeah," the Doctor said, although her eyes were on the glassy side. "Yeah, just... restless. Hungry, but tired at the same time. Weird combo, eh?" She laughed, and she looked faintly self conscious. "Maybe all those all-nighters are finally catching up to me." She gave a wide yawn, and she stretched. "Think I'm gonna go have a lie down," she said, and then she stood up, making her way out of the kitchen. "Leave the dishes in the sink," she called over her shoulder. "The TARDIS will handle 'em!"

"I dunno how the TARDIS feels about that," Yaz said, but she was grinning in spite of herself.

As soon as the sound of the Doctor's boots had faded into the distance, Yaz covered her face with both hands and groaned, long and hard. She was in over her head. She wasn't even sure what it was that she was in over her head _with_ , but... well, she sure was. 

* * *

Yaz dithered - she washed the dishes (the Doctor might've said that the dishes would be washed by the TARDIS, but the Doctor had some odd notions about how certain things were done), she went to the library and tried to read, although she kept remembering the feeling of the Doctor's face against her palm. She considered going for a swim, or maybe a run, but her erection didn't seem to want to go down, which made bathing suits problematic. Although then again, the shock of cold water might do her some good. 

She could, in theory, rummage around the TARDIS wardrobe to see if she could find a bathing suit - she couldn't be the only Alpha who'd traveled with the Doctor, right? The Doctor was probably off somewhere fixing something on the TARDIS, or trying to improve something on the TARDIS. Or maybe she'd gone haring off after some mad idea, and she'd come back in a few hours covered in paint or flour or some kind of plant matter. 

_A swim'll wear me out_ , Yaz thought, as she made her way towards the wardrobe room, hands in her pockets, very pointedly not touching her erection. _It'll be just what I need_. 

* * *

Yaz found a pair of old swim trunks in the wardrobe, and a bikini top. The chlorinated scent of the swimming pool was enough to drive the Doctor's scent out of her head. She ended up swimming laps until her arms were burning, her chest heaving and her whole body overheated and sweaty. She took a long luxurious shower afterwards, sat in the steam room until she felt like a boiled lobster. 

It hadn't been how she had intended to spend her day, but she couldn't complain too hard - it had been a while since she'd had a proper workout, anyway. She ended up spending more time in the gym, working off all of the excess energy - there was an exercise bike as well, and a punching bag. By the time she made her way back towards her room, she was well and truly wiped.

She also had no idea what time it was. Without Ryan and Graham around, there wasn't really anyone else who followed the same sort of twenty four hour day that she did, and the Doctor could be a bit erratic when it came to time sense. She took another shower, and made her way back towards her room.

Only to be confronted by the sight of the Doctor curled up in her bed, still smelling... like that, her eyes shut, her face buried in Yaz's pillow. 

"Doctor," Yaz said, her voice thick. The whole room must have smelled like the Doctor, and it was so _strong_ , clouding Yaz's mind like mist. 

The Doctor rolled over, and Yaz could see the little bit of skin where her shirts were riding up, her braces dangling down around her hips and her hair all mussed up.

"Hi Yaz," the Doctor murmured, and she stretched. She looked as comfy as a cat in a sunbeam, and she smelled _divine_. "Sorry, was feelin' a bit lonely, thought I'd wait for you to come back." She rubbed her eyes, and how was it possible for her to be so cute?

"It's fine," Yaz said, and her voice was thick. Her hair was still wet from her shower, and she was wearing a tank top and shorts she'd found in one of the big baskets of clothes in the vast, echoing locker room. "It's your TARDIS, after all." 

Sometimes, Yaz wondered how many people that TARDIS was actually made for. She'd seen the Doctor dash about the thing madly, seen the sheer amount of _space_ that was tucked around the place. Was the Doctor like a one woman crew of a nuclear submarine?

"It may be my TARDIS, but this is _your_ room," the Doctor said, and she sat up and yawned. "I'll shove off, I'm sorry." She looked sheepish. "Your bed smells nice," she added, as an afterthought. "The TARDIS must be using some really nice detergent for you." The Doctor grinned. "She likes you."

"It's fine," said Yaz, then; "d'you want some company?" That was a dumb thing to say. She was probably already getting hard, and she couldn't have an erection, not now. Not when she was wearing such loose shorts, not when the Doctor was looking at her all sleep tousled and adorable. 

"I mean," said the Doctor, "if you're offering." She stretched again, then flopped out on the bed. "Should be room for two, just about."

It was a double bed - bigger than Yaz's bed at home, but not so big that she felt lost in it. The Doctor squirmed over to one side, and she sighed, when Yaz climbed into bed beside her, curling herself around Yaz, her cold nose pressed into the side of Yaz's neck.

"You're more cuddly than usual," Yaz said, as she rested a cautious arm around the Doctor's waist. She was angling her hips away, to keep from poking the Doctor with her cock, but... still. _Fuck_ she smelled good. So good. 

"Yeah," the Doctor said, and she sighed gustily. "I don't know what's been up with me lately, I've been hungry and sleepy, and I've been having all these _feelings_." The Doctor rolled over, and now she and Yaz were nose to nose. "Not that I don't ordinarily have feelings, but..." She gave an expansive shrug. "If I was in one of my old bodies, I'd say maybe I was going into rut, but I'm not an Alpha this go 'round."

"Were you an Alpha, in your last body?" They were still very close, and now the Doctor's breasts were pressed into Yaz's chest, and this was all... a lot. A whole lot. Yaz was beginning to get faintly dizzy from it.

"Nope, a Beta," said the Doctor. She was snuggling in now, her head tucking up under Yaz's chin, and she fit entirely too well. "I was a Beta before that, then an Alpha, then an Alpha."

"I didn't know you worked that way," Yaz said. She was rubbing the Doctor's back, slowly, and the Doctor was sighing again, little puffs of air along Yaz's collarbone. It wasn't helping with the erection. "Since you're an alien, I mean."

"We had different terms for it, where I'm from," the Doctor murmured, "but the TARDIS translates them the same way." Her hands were on Yaz's hips, and Yaz was having to be _very_ careful not to nudge the Doctor with the head of her cock. 

_This is what I get for wearing boxers_ , Yaz thought, as the Doctor tangled their legs together. "Have you ever been an Omega?" Yaz asked, before her brain could catch up.

"Quite a few regenerations ago, yeah," the Doctor murmured. "Don't hardly remember much from it, honestly." There was an audible pause, and then the Doctor was pulling away, sitting up. "Yaz," she said. 

"Mmm?" Yaz looked up at her, and tried not to pay attention to the way the delicious scent seemed to be radiating off of the Doctor in _waves_. 

"I think I'm an Omega." The Doctor sounded faintly distressed. "This time, I mean."

"Yeah?" Yaz stayed on her side, so that the stupid tent in her shorts wasn't too obvious. 

"I hadn't really given much thought to it," the Doctor said. She was resting her chin on her hands and her elbows on her thighs. "I mean, as many times as I've regenerated and as old as I am, I've run the full gamut." The Doctor scrubbed her face with both hands, and then she turned to look at Yaz with wide eyes. "But it hasn't ever felt... like this."

"It's your first time being a woman, isn't it?" Yaz put a hand on the Doctor's back, and she could feel the Doctor's body heat spiking, even through the thin fabric. 

"I don't remember ever being a woman before, no," the Doctor said, which wasn't really an answer, but Yaz wasn't going to push when the Doctor looked so distressed. "This _is_ the first time I've been an Omega while traveling with an Alpha in... oof, couple of hundred years." She sighed, flopping back onto her back, then rolled onto her side, so that she was facing Yaz again. 

_Kiss her_ , whispered a treacherous part of Yaz's mind. _Kiss her, bite her, slide down to the bottom of the bed and spread her legs open and sink in until you knot and -_

"Yaz?" The Doctor's hand was on Yaz’s face, and the Doctor sounded concerned. 

Yaz shuddered, forcing her thoughts away from that line. 

"Sorry," she said, and cleared her throat. "Spaced out. What were you saying?"

"You smell anxious," said the Doctor, and she leaned in closer. "I'm still getting used to being more sensitive. I used to be a lot more nose dead." She took a deep sniff, right in Yaz's face. 

Yaz jerked back, and nearly fell out of the bed - the Doctor grabbed her by the wrist, to keep her from falling. 

"That was a bit rude, wasn't it?" The Doctor's tone was reflective. "I think I'm tripping over the whole Omega thing because I've never been _this_ combination of hormones, that I remember."

_What does she mean, that she remembers?_ Yaz didn't say. The Doctor's fingers were grasping her firmly, and her skin was warm, almost clammy. "This combination of hormones?"

"Working out what it means to be an Omega and a woman, versus an Omega and a man," said the Doctor, and she tugged Yaz back onto the bed. "Sorry for sniffing you like that," she added, almost as an afterthought. "I wasn't, uh... noticing things quite as much, before. Since it was all, y'know..." Her thumb was rubbing a little circle around Yaz's wrist, and Yaz could feel her face heating up. 

"Oh," Yaz said. "It's different?"

"I mean," the Doctor said, her tone reflective, "some of it is just a new body. It's different, being in a woman's body, but it was also different being in a skinnier body, or an older body." 

"Right," Yaz said. This would have been a really fascinating conversation, if she hadn't been so damn turned on. As it was, it was hard for her to think about anything but kissing the Doctor, and this was _not_ the time to do that. "So do you remember going into heat before? As a man, I mean."

That was probably a rude thing to say. You weren't supposed to bring up other people's heats, their ruts, their periods. It was one of those things that you pretended not to notice, to keep polite society going. 

Then again, the Doctor didn’t seem to care much for how polite society worked. 

"Vaguely," the Doctor said. "It was all very different, but then again, every rut felt different when I went into a new one as well." She wriggled in place, and if Yaz hadn't known any better, she'd have thought that the Doctor was rubbing her thighs together. "I haven't been anything but a Beta in such a long time, it's like trying to ride a bike again after you've grown new legs."

"That's not exactly a universal experience, Doctor," Yaz said, her tone teasing.

The Doctor snorted, and she tugged Yaz closer to her, until she could tuck her head under Yaz's chin. She wrapped her arms around Yaz's middle and pulled Yaz closer, her face in Yaz's neck. "You smell so nice," the Doctor murmured. "You've always smelled nice, but not _this_ nice." She sighed, and she was wriggling now, her hands clutching at the back of Yaz's tank top.

"Doctor," Yaz said, "if you're an Omega, d'you think... I mean, is it possible you might be in heat?" That was an awkward thing to say. It was _such_ an awkward thing to say, and she was cringing even as she said it.

"I'd know if I was in heat," the Doctor said dismissively. She sighed. "Can I stay here a little longer?" Her voice was quiet. "Feelin' antsy," she added, and she sounded self conscious now. "Just... maybe be with you a little bit."

"Of course," Yaz said, touched in spite of herself. "D'you want me to put a movie on or somethin'?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah?" Yaz didn't know why her heart was in her throat, but at least she wasn't prodding the Doctor with her dick. 

"I just wanna lie in your bed and maybe nap," the Doctor said. "I don't sleep that much, but when I do I tend to sleep hard." She sounded embarrassed. "The idea of sleeping by myself is scary. In dumb ways."

"Of course you can sleep here," Yaz said. She was a little bushed herself, from all the working out she had done. "D'you wanna have a lie in?"

"That sounds nice," the Doctor said, and then she made a protesting noise as Yaz made to get up.

"I just gotta turn the light off," Yaz told her. "Don't worry, I'll be back."

"Not usually this needy," the Doctor murmured, as Yaz padded over to her light switch and flipped it off. "You can get the TARDIS to move that closer, y'know," she said, and her voice was drowsy. "Won't have to get out of bed."

"I might get too lazy if I do that," Yaz said, as she maneuvered her way back towards the bed, with the lump of the Doctor under the covers. "I'll never get out of bed."

"Yasmin Khan, you couldn't be lazy if you _tried_ ," the Doctor said as Yaz slid back into bed with her. 

"I'm napping in the middle of the day," Yaz reminded the Doctor, lying on her back. The Doctor crowded up to her almost immediately, and it was only with some careful maneuvering that the Doctor's knee didn't brush against her erection. "How is that not lazy?"

"Only 'cause I asked you to," the Doctor scoffed, "and I know that _I'm_ not lazy, which means that if I'm doing it, most definitely can't be a sign of laziness." She wriggled some more, until her head was resting on Yaz's chin, one leg thrown across Yaz's own. She smelled like Omega, like warmth, like the kind of delicious deepness that Yaz wanted to drown in. 

"And you don't think you're in heat?" Yaz kept her tone casual - she was almost drunk on all the pheromones the Doctor seemed to be putting out into the air. 

"I'd know if I was in heat," the Doctor said. "Definitely." She sighed, her ear still pressed to Yaz's chest. "You're so warm, Yaz," she murmured. "One of the things I love about you humans. You're always so _warm_."

"You're not exactly cold," Yaz pointed out, as she wrapped an arm around the Doctor's shoulders. She was beginning to get drowsy in spite of herself. She'd done an awful lot of working out, and even if she was stupidly horny, some feral part of her brain was content to just cuddle in the dark, safe in the knowledge that nothing could get to her. She had to fight the urge to pull the blankets over the two of them, to curl her whole body around the Doctor's own and hold the other woman to her like a stuffed animal. 

"Cooler than you," the Doctor murmured. She sounded like she was beginning to fall asleep.

"I'm not the one wearing my trousers too short," Yaz said, and then she yawned, wide enough that she could swear her jaw was going to crack.

The last thing she remembered, before she fell asleep, was the Doctor chuckling. 

* * *

Yaz was dreaming about... something. She didn't know what the specifics were, except that she was being touched, and it was a _good_ touching, but she hadn't expected it. There were warm fingers gently gripping her cock, stroking her through her uniform trousers, and then that became her pajama pants. There was a warm body pressed against her, in her dream, and there was hot breath against the back of her neck.

_The pharaohs used to masturbate into the Nile, to bring prosperity to the waters_ , narrated some part of her mind, as the hand groping her through her trousers found the head of her cock and gave it a little squeeze. _Make sure to aim for the water when you ejaculate_.

Except it wasn't the Nile in front of her, it was the swimming pool in the TARDIS, and the Doctor was in it, staring up at her. 

"You might have been right," the Doctor's voice said, and it was louder than it had a right to be, echoing through her head. 

"I like to think I am," Yaz said in her dream, only she was being dragged out of the dream now, she was being jostled in her sleep, and she was vaguely aware that she was a body in a bed, _being_ jostled. 

"I think I'm in heat," said the Doctor, and now it was her voice in Yaz's ear, her hot breath on the back of Yaz’s neck, and her small hand curled around the shaft of Yaz's cock through Yaz's shorts, right under the head. She was rolling her hips, humping against Yaz's backside, and it would have been embarrassing, but everything was just a wash of hormones.

"Y'don't say," Yaz said, and her voice cracked. Her head was pounding, to go with the pulse between her legs. She could barely think, all of the arousal thick and heavy in the air. 

The Doctor's nose was in her neck, and there was the sensation of wet lips against her skin, right where the wispy hair started. _It's a good thing I've got a braid, or she'd have a face full of hair_.

"Yaz," the Doctor moaned, and that was a _moan_ , as she kept rutting against Yaz's backside, "Yaz, please... I need..." She was pumping her hand clumsily, squeezing Yaz's cock, and that was more stimulation than Yaz had been subject to in who even knew how long.

Yaz should have held back. She should have stood up, should have walked out. Should have told the Doctor "you're not in your right mind" and then gone and taken a cold shower, maybe wanked a bit. People who were in heat weren't always thinking straight, and the Doctor would probably regret it, since she normally seemed so afraid of intimacy. 

She _shouldn't_ have done what she actually did, which was to roll over onto her side and kiss the Doctor, right on the mouth. It was the kind of kiss that she had dreamed about, all those secret times under the covers, the kind of kiss that she associated with romance novels and the kinds of rom-coms that Sonya liked to watch. It shouldn't have been a good kiss, when it was so dark, the only light creeping in from under the door, but it was. It was as closs to perfect as any first kiss had ever been. 

The Doctor sighed, and one hand came up to Yaz's face, cupping it, gentle fingers on Yaz's cheek. She kissed tentatively, as if she wasn't sure what to expect, and she sighed when Yaz's tongue pressed against the seam of her lips, but opened her mouth willingly enough. She was pressing closer now, her breasts against Yaz's own, and she was soft, and she smelled _so_ good. 

"Doctor," Yaz murmured, when they broke apart to breathe. "Doctor, this is a bad idea."

"It's a brilliant idea," the Doctor said, pushing Yaz flat so that Yaz was lying on her back. Then she was clambering up on top of Yaz, straddling Yaz's thighs. At some point she'd lost her trousers - when had she removed her trousers? It was just the Doctor's boxers, and they were printed with little question marks, just visible in the gloom. Little question marks, and a wet crotch. There was a slit at the front of the boxers, and they Yaz could see a few curly dark blond hairs poking out. 

"Doctor, we're not... we're not the same species," Yaz said, and those words sounded hollow even in her own ears. As if she hadn't thought of this before, more times than she could count. Admittedly, not in these _exact_ circumstances, but... still. 

"Compatible enough," the Doctor told Yaz earnestly. She was... she was straddling Yaz's erection now, and Yaz could feel the wet cleft of her labia, right up against her shaft. She was grinding forward, and Yaz could just make out that her face was _changing_ , although not the shapes it was making as she ground her hips forward. She wanted to turn the light on, so she could _catch_ all of this, except if she did that then maybe it would stop.

It was like a dream. The Doctor's breath was harsh, and the Doctor's cunt was hot and wet, even through all those layers of fabric. The Doctor had shoved Yaz's shirt up, and her bare hands were on Yaz's bare stomach. Her palms were so _hot_ , and her knees were digging into Yaz's sides.

The drag of cloth against Yaz's cock should have been too much, should have been painful, but it was just winding the Doctor up tighter. She humped against the Doctor, the scent of the Doctor's heat filling up the whole room, filling up her whole _head_. 

Yaz didn't mean to come in her shorts - she wasn't usually on this much of a hair trigger. Her hips were still jerking forward, pressing herself against the Doctor, and her eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure washed over her. She clutched at the Doctor's hips as her cock pulsed, sticky come hot and wet against her groin. She was trembling as she came down, and she was panting. 

"Oh," the Doctor said, and she sounded faintly surprised.

"Sorry," Yaz said, and she didn't know if she'd ever been so embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I can -"

"No, no, it's fine," the Doctor said quickly. 

"I'm not usually that -"

"I used to have one, remember," the Doctor said, and she sounded faintly amused. She was still wriggling her hips, and it was a torment against Yaz's over sensitive cock. 

"Gimme a sec," Yaz said, and she tugged on the Doctor's hips. "Hold on, let me just..." There was more maneuvering - the Doctor seemed willing to be manipulated, at least. She let Yaz push her back, and then Yaz was rolling over as well, so that she was on top of the Doctor, belly to belly and breast to breast.

Yaz balanced on her forearms, and her face was hovering over the Doctor's. The Doctor's little breaths were puffing against her chin, ruffling her eyelashes, cooling down her sweaty flesh. She could smell the Doctor's heat, a rich, heady scent that seemed to be filling her whole head like smoke in a fog machine. She could only just make out the glint of the Doctor's eyes, and the way her nose was scrunching up. She stayed like that for a moment, almost nose to nose with the Doctor - she could feel the Doctor's hearts beating, the way the Doctor's chest rose and fell with her breathing, the feverish heat that was radiating off of her. 

_I don't know what I'm doing_ , whispered the last remnant of her common sense, and then it was smothered under a wave of lust as the Doctor wriggled against her. She kissed the Doctor, kissed with her whole mouth, her hands in the Doctor's hair, and then she was kissing lower, along the line of the Doctor's jaw, into her throat. She pressed her face into the hollow under the Doctor's jaw and took a deep, snuffling breath, letting the Doctor's scent wash over her, letting the Doctor's pheromones mingle with her own. She mouthed at the Doctor's neck, then bit, gently enough that it was barely a little press of teeth.

The Doctor sobbed, and her hands came up, clutching at Yaz's back. "Harder," she mumbled. "Bite me harder. _Please_." 

Yaz sank her teeth into the Doctor's neck, hard enough that she felt the muscle twitch, and she sucked. She was clutching at the Doctor's hair, and she wasn't sure when she'd started doing that either, except that she was pulling hard enough that her fingers were going to have indentations, and the Doctor was keening and wriggling under her. 

The Doctor sighed and moaned when Yaz let go, rolling her hips. "It's never been this... much," she mumbled. "When I was in heat, I don't remember it being this overwhelming." Then she paused. "Then again, it always feels a lot, in a new body. It always feels..." She shivered, and then she moaned, as Yaz began to nibble along her neck. 

Yaz should have at least made polite noises, to show she was paying attention. Instead, she kissed lower, nipping on the Doctor's collarbones, then biting the Doctor's shoulder. The Doctor's fingers were digging into her shoulders, and the Doctor's hips were rolling up.

"It's just so... hot, and wet, I think I'm wet, Yaz, can you check?" The Doctor's tone sounded so _plaintive_ , and Yaz leaned back, her chin resting on the Doctor's sternum. The fabric of the Doctor’s t-shirts was soft against her face, and stuck with the sweat. 

"Can't you tell?" Yaz was giggling in spite of herself. The scent of the Doctor's heat was fogging all of her senses - she could taste it, and maybe she was far gone enough that she could almost see it, like a multicolored fog swirling around them in the dimness.

"You've got one, you know what it's like," the Doctor said, and she made a vague hand gesture, then rested a hand on top of Yaz's head, twisting the tail of Yaz's braid around and around her fingers. "Half the time I feel like I need to go to the toilet and it turns out that it's just my body... self lubricating."

"Self lubricating," Yaz echoed, and she pressed her face into the space between the Doctor's breasts and laughed, as a little bit of the humor seemed to creep in amongst all the desperate, pulsing arousal.

"It's an excellent system," the Doctor added, her tone reflective. Her hands moved to the bare skin of Yaz's shoulders, pushing the straps of Yaz's tank top aside to circle the tips of her fingers along the delicate skin. "Pretty well designed, all things considered."

Yaz snorted, and began to kiss lower, scooting down the bed. It really was lucky it was such a big bed, or she would have been full on hanging off of it at this point, instead of her feet dangling down. The Doctor's legs were parting for her, and some sappy, ridiculous part of her mind that she was refusing to listen to was mumbling about "opening the gates of heaven" but _no_ , that was _not_ a road she was going down. She'd read those romance novels, all those years ago, and she'd snickered, but now her nose was inches away from the wet cotton of the Doctor's boxers, and even the sarcastic commentary had died down.

The Doctor was wet, and the smell of her arousal - that specific aroma of an Omega in heat, which she'd only ever caught little snatches of in the past - was invading her whole mind. She grabbed the Doctor's hips, and she pressed her face into the Doctor's cunt, right through the boxers, and everything smelled like salt and musk, like _heat_. She mouthed at the Doctor's vulva through the boxers, and then her hands were on the waistband, and she was shoving them down, shifting to get them down and off the Doctor's legs.

"So, wet?" The Doctor looked up at Yaz, and her expression was hopeful. "I think I'm wet. I think I'm - ooo!" She actually _squealed_ when Yaz's mouth descended on her cunt, and her hips jerked forward, forcing Yaz's tongue further along her slit.

Yaz had only ever eaten one girl out, and that had been before she'd started traveling with the Doctor. For all that she'd been drunk that time, she'd still been thinking clearer than she was now - she just wanted to drown in the Doctor's scent. It was just alien enough to be alluring, and she kept chasing it, licking and sucking, her hands holding tight to the Doctor's hips. She'd never been so close to an Omega in heat - she couldn't remember the last time she'd been so close to another living thing, _period_ , and the intensity of the connection might have scared her if she wasn't so engrossed in the task at hand.

The Doctor's first orgasm seemed downright anti-climactic - she shuddered and arched her back, whimpering, heels digging into Yaz's back (when had the Doctor's legs gone over her shoulders? Shouldn't she have noticed that?) and then there was another wave of slick cascading down Yaz's chin, soaking down the front of the tank top. The Doctor went slack against the bed, and her chest was heaving, but she didn't seem too impacted otherwise.

Yaz had a brief moment of lucidity, and she looked up the line of the Doctor's body, barely making it out in the dimness, like the horizon late at night. She could make out the Doctor's open eyes, and the peaks and valleys of the Doctor's breasts, the slightly darker points of the Doctor's nipples, the paleness of the Doctor's belly. _When did she take her shirts off?_ Yaz thought. _Wouldn't I have noticed, her taking her shirts off?_

"Why'd you stop?" The Doctor's voice was plaintive.

"I don't want to overwhelm you," Yaz said, and she pressed her forehead into the Doctor's inner thigh. There was slick drying all around her mouth, down her chin, and she realized somewhat belatedly that even now, she was drooling at the scent of it.

"I'm not overwhelmed," the Doctor said. "I'm whelmed. Well and truly whelmed." Her hands were going to the back of Yaz's head, pushing it back towards her cunt. " _Please_ ," she said, and her voice had a desperate, needy tinge to it.

"No way is that a word," Yaz murmured, although she wasn't really paying attention to what it was she was saying. She pressed her whole face forward, her nose against the Doctor's clit and her tongue deep inside of the Doctor's. She was a little more present, this time around, although she seemed to be going deeper into her own mind, her own arousal. It was like sinking into a deep, dark pool, except it wasn't scary, it wasn't drowning her. It was just surrounding her, all over, but she was swimming through it like air. If you could swim through air.

Her metaphors were getting florid. She’d blame it on the fact that most of the blood in her body was throbbing through her cock. 

Yaz kept licking, opening her mouth a little wider. Her jaw was beginning to get sore, and she was well and truly hard again, her cock trapped in her knickers, pressed into the bed. She was humping the mattress as she licked the Doctor, but that didn't seem to bring much relief. She sucked on the Doctor's clit, and the Doctor thrashed against her, thighs squeezing her tight. _I might get choked out like that_ , Yaz thought, and was surprised at how unbothered she was. 

The Doctor's next orgasm was wetter than the last one, and the Doctor's heels were definitely going to bruise, if they kept digging into her like that. Yaz was holding on to the Doctor's thighs now, pushing them open as she licked and sucked, her tongue sliding into the Doctor, then out to flick along the Doctor's clit. She didn't have anything in her head, just the urge to keep going. 

The Doctor came a few times. Yaz honestly lost track, although she knew at some point she had three fingers inside of the Doctor, and was sucking her clit, watching the way the shadows played across the Doctor's jiggling breasts as she gasped and panted, thrashing on the bed. She came back to herself when the Doctor was nudging her away, still gasping, cunt gripping silkily around her fingers. 

"When didja take your shirt off?" Yaz asked, which probably wasn't the sort of thing she should have been asked, but her head was still foggy. She curled her fingers forward, pressing down on the Doctor's g-spot, and the Doctor went stock still, her thighs trembling. 

"I... am not sure," the Doctor said. "Was getting sweaty, figured I might as well get more comfy." She sighed, and she clenched around Yaz again, then gave a little hiccuping gasp as Yaz's thumb circled over her clit. "Usually I've got better time sense 'n this. Go figure, eh?" She shuddered again, and her hips gave another twitch. "Yaz, I... I need..."

"What d'you need, Doctor?" Yaz was sweating down her own sides, between her own breasts. Her armpits were slick, and her braid was heavy down her back. Everything smelled like the Doctor's heat, and her whole face seemed to be wet from the Doctor's cunt. 

"I need you to knot me," the Doctor said, and she said it so _matter of factly_ , as if she was asking Yaz to pass the salt or lend her a fiver. "I don't know if I've ever wanted anything more in my whole life." She paused, and Yaz could almost imagine her wrinkling her nose. "Although I suspect some of that may be the hormones talking."

"Might be," Yaz agreed. She was kissing up the Doctor's body, smearing more slick along the Doctor's skin. _My whole bed is going to smell like sex_ , Yaz thought, and she shivered at the thought, imagining lying in bed alone at night and remembering this exact moment. Then she paused. "Do you..." She shook her head, trying to clear it. "Do we need any kind of... birth control?" Not that she _had_ any kind of birth control. 

"I can't get pregnant from one of you lot," said the Doctor, and she was twining Yaz's braid around and around her hand, angling her hips up. She was grinding her wet cunt against Yaz's belly, and Yaz's tank top was riding up, exposing her skin to more hot, wet stickiness. "You'll be fine, you'll be good, you'll be good, _please_ , Yaz, I need your knot..." 

Yaz shifted further up the Doctor's body, until she was more or less nose to nose. She kissed the Doctor, her tongue in the Doctor's mouth, her fingers in the Doctor's hair. She was resting most of her weight on the Doctor, her forearms braced on either side of the Doctor's head. The shaft of her cock was pressing against the Doctor's vulva, and the Doctor's slick was soaking through Yaz's knickers, her shorts. Yaz was rutting her hips forward, and that was funny, wasn't it, it was funny because she was in rut, she was in rut and the Doctor was in heat, and the Doctor's heat was what had sent her into rut, wasn't it?

"You did this," Yaz mumbled against the Doctor's mouth, and the Doctor shuddered, her thighs cradling Yaz's hips and her heels digging into Yaz's thighs. "You did this, you... oh, _Doctor_!" 

The Doctor's hands were worming between the two of them, and she was holding on to Yaz's cock. "Are you mad at me?" The Doctor's voice was breathless. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not... I don't think I'm mad," Yaz said, and she pressed her face into the Doctor's neck. She could feel the bite mark she'd left earlier, and she mouthed at it, tracing her tongue along the indentations of her own teeth. “Although we might be here a while yet.” She rolled her hips forward, grinding into the Doctor’s hand, the Doctor’s wet, sticky vulva. 

“Why?” The Doctor squirmed, and then she sighed, her other hand coming into play. She pushed Yaz’s shorts down, took Yaz’s knickers with them, and then it was Yaz’s bare cock sliding along the slick line of her cleft, the head of Yaz’s cock bumping against her hard little clit. 

“Knots take a while to… to go down,” Yaz said, although she wasn’t sure if she was talking about her knot or about something else. Whatever that something else might have been. It was almost a logical conversation they were having, and she probably should have pulled away, let the Doctor breathe so they could figure this out together. If this was a good idea, to have this kind of intense, emotional sex, especially in the vulnerable, hormonal state the both of them were in. Heat sex could lead to a whole bunch of complications, complications that would be even _more_ complicated considering the Doctor was a very old alien and Yaz was a relatively young human.

The Doctor was positioning the head of Yaz’s cock against her entrance, and Yaz could feel the muscles there trying to pull her in deeper. “We’re in a time machine,” she told Yaz, and she was pushing her hips forward, The head of Yaz’s cock was inside of her now, and it was silky and hot. It was so _slick_ , and the two of them gasped.

“You’re so warm,” the Doctor said, and her voice was full of wonder. “You’re so warm, I always forget how warm humans are, oh, _Yaz_!” She was clutching at Yaz’s back, and her fingernails were digging in, even through the fabric of Yaz’s tank top. Her hearts were beating desperately against Yaz’s chest, and her breath was hot across Yaz’s face.

“You’re not exactly… you’re not cold,” Yaz mumbled. "And you said that already." She was pushing further into the Doctor, aided by all the slick, and when she was fully seated, she wanted to _sob_. It was so tight, so perfectly hot and silky, holding her so sweetly. The Doctor’s thighs cradled her hips, and the Doctor’s hands were sliding under her tank top, fingers slipping in Yaz’s sweat. 

“That’s why it’s heat,” the Doctor said, then; “it’s been a long time since I’ve had an Alpha inside of me.” She rolled her hips, and her inner muscles fluttered around Yaz’s length.

Yaz made a broken, guttural noise, and she thrust forward. She had her forehead against the Doctor’s, and the Doctor’s eyelashes were tickling her cheek. She began to roll her hips in earnest, fucking into the Doctor, and then she was leaning lower, her mouth finding the spot she’d bitten earlier, her tongue tracing along the mark. 

The Doctor made some wordless exclamation, and her heels were digging into Yaz’s calves. She was so wet that Yaz could _hear_ it, and that probably should have been embarrassing, but it was all snowballing, and all she could do was hang on and follow her instincts. She hadn’t ever given much thought to her instincts before, but… well, here she was.

The Doctor came again, all around Yaz’s cock, and she was clenching Yaz tight. Yaz wasn’t sure what had set it off - it wasn’t as if she’d been doing anything to the Doctor’s clit, the Doctor’s breasts, or any other hot spot the Doctor might have. _I’m going to learn all of her good spots_ , thought some quiet part of Yaz’s mind, as she kept thrusting into the Doctor, her hips moving faster. _I’m going to find every place to make her moan or sigh or laugh, and I’m going to remember it until the day I die._

That was an intense thought to have, especially at a time like _this_ , but she wasn’t really sure how to turn it off, and she dug her teeth into a new part of the Doctor’s neck, her thrusts going slow and deep. She could feel the Doctor’s breasts jiggling against her own, the Doctor’s hard little nipples poking through the thin tank top, and why was she still wearing her shirt? She’d have to take that off, she wanted as much of her skin to be in contact with the Doctor as possible, wanted to be covered in the Doctor’s scent, wanted the Doctor covered in hers.

This was like something out of a bad romance novel, or maybe a certain class of forum post, but she didn’t care, because the Doctor was gasping with each thrust now, and she seemed to be getting tighter. Or was Yaz’s cock getting bigger?

“I can feel it,” the Doctor said, and her voice was a rough whisper. “You’re… oh, Yaz, please, put it in. Knot me, please, please, please, I - _oh_!”

Yaz pushed her hips forward, and then there was the sensation of her knot emerging, and she was coming. She was coming so hard that her vision went on the edges, and her arms gave out. She ended up sprawled on top of the Doctor, all of her weight pinning the other woman down. The pleasure was washing through her, and her cock was pulsing inside of the Doctor, come spurting out of her. She’d never had an orgasm that intense, and then the Doctor seemed to be having _another_ orgasm, and this one was even stronger, because it was clutching Yaz’s knot, forcing more come out of her, and all she could do was lie there and twitch, panting into the Doctor’s neck. 

The aftershocks kept hitting Yaz - minute jerks of the Doctor’s cunt would send more little shocks of pleasure through her, as her cock spit out more come, and her knot throbbed, held firmly in place by the Doctor’s interior muscles. She nuzzled into the Doctor’s temple, and took a deep breath of the Doctor’s scent - heat, sweat, alien, home. She didn’t know if she’d ever felt so safe, here in the dark, with a twin heartbeat thumping against her own chest.

“That’s not so different,” the Doctor murmured, and she was rubbing Yaz’s back, making little circles with her fingertips. “This. This isn’t so different.”

“No?” Yaz hauled herself upright, gave her hips an experimental twitch. Then she gasped, and flopped back down as her poor cock protested the overstimulation. The Doctor made a strangled noise, pulling Yaz closer to her. 

“I like it when you’re here, like this,” the Doctor murmured, and she was wriggling carefully, until they were both on their sides, nose to nose. Yaz’s leg was thrown over hers, and it seemed to push the knot that much deeper inside of her. “This has always been my favorite part, when I’m an Alpha or an Omega.” She stroked Yaz’s face, the tip of her index finger going along the curve of her ear. “The… closeness, after the frenzy.”

“I’m sorry about the frenzy,” Yaz murmured. She could still feel the rut on the edges of her mind, although the exhaustion was taking some of the intensity off of it.

“Don’t be,” the Doctor said, and she gave a little wriggle. “It’s fun, remembering how my body works. Remembering it’s alive.” There was something wistful in her tone, and it made Yaz’s chest hurt, just a little. 

Yaz sighed, and she pressed her forehead against the Doctor’s, taking in the Doctor’s own scent. The Doctor’s scent, which was mixed in with her own now, in ways that she was going to have to deal with in the near future.

But that was the near future. Just now, she was going to pull the Doctor a little closer, and lie here in the dark.


End file.
